


Blowing in the Breeze

by noveltea



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comment Fic, Drabble, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-26
Updated: 2010-09-26
Packaged: 2017-10-12 05:45:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/121442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noveltea/pseuds/noveltea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two months after the not!apocalypse, Castiel checks up on Deanna.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blowing in the Breeze

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own these characters.
> 
> Original prompt by fae_columnae (LJ): Supernatural, any, my love is like the wind

It had been two months since Lucifer and Michael had faced off against one another.

Two months since the death of her brother; two months living with the closest person she had to a friend, trying to regain any sense of normalcy.

She didn't have benchmarks for normalcy.

"Deanna?"

She didn't need to wake up to know she was dreaming of sitting at the edge of baseball park watching children play ball as their parents cheered them on. She didn't need to look around to know there was a second park bench next to her own, or that an angel was sitting there watching an anonymous game with her.

"Castiel?" She turns her head to look at the angel, seemingly unchanged by their quest. She knew better. "It's been a while."

"Two months."

She smiles despite herself. He might have changed in some ways, but he's ability to view the world and converse literally had not. "I didn't expect to see you."

He observes her, blue eyes taking in every inch of her. "I wanted to see how you were."

"What? You mean you haven't been peeking over my shoulder when I haven't been looking?"

He blinks. She suppresses a groan. "On the contrary, I have been watching you closely."

She shakes her head. "Careful, Cas. I might think you've been stalking me." She sees his mouth opening and she holds up a hand to silence him. "I'm ok."

He raises an eyebrow.

"Really. I'm dealing."

Sometimes she even believed herself.

He didn't. She could tell just by the way he looked at her; looked right through her.

Once, it would have irritated her; now it's a source of comfort. "I'm not a toy you can fix, Cas."

His brow furrows. "You're not a toy."

She closes her eyes and laughs. It's the first time she's laughed in two months; it's genuine. "No." Her laughter fades and she looks back at him. "But I'm serious. I am what I am, Cas, and you can't fix what's broken inside." He couldn't fix what she'd lost.

She's not surprised when she blinks and he's gone; she is when he reappears sitting next to her, one hand on her arm.

"I don't believe you need to be 'fixed'," he says, and this time he's looking straight at her, and not through her.

Now she can't meet his gaze. Of course she needs to be fixed; she's been broken for a long time.

Even though it's a dream, she can feel the breeze blowing around her, ruffling her hair and reminding her of her childhood watching games with her dad and Sam. It's enough to crack her mask of calm and coping.

His hand never moves from her arm, but the heat from it increases and she's not sure whether she's imagining it, whether he's doing it on purpose, or whether it's a combination of both. He leans in close, a surprisingly human gesture, so that he's whispering in her ear. "You don't need to be fixed."

Then she's alone watching the game.

When she wakes, she's still alone.

The curtains sway against the open window.

If she didn't know better she would swear she can his voice on the breeze.


End file.
